Scomiche One-Shots

Rock

This was the third time in Mitch's life that he had found himself in this position with Scott. The first time had been when he was seventeen and thought he was going through his first heart break

*****

Scott knew something was wrong immediately. His usually warm colored eyes were icy and nearly black, and it would have been impossible for the blond to miss the puffy, raw patches under his blood shot eyes where his baggy sleeves had rubbed his skin raw.

"Mitchy?"

"He left me." Scott waited a second before standing and taking a hesitant step towards his best friend. "H-he said he was s-sick of me; that I'm worthless." There was another brief pause before the smaller man spoke again.

"Am I? Am I worthless, Scotty?" The genuine sadness emanating  from the beautiful brunet was enough to cause tears to spring to Scott's blue eyes. His muscular arms were thrown around the thin frame in front of him in less than a second, and Scott wasted no time in crushing Mitch to his chest. "I don't want to be worthless."

His heart broke at how upset Mitch was, but he was also livid. No one was allowed to talk to Mitch that way.

"Of course you're not worthless," Scott breathed out, his lips resting gently against the top of Mitch's head. "You're the most amazing person I've ever met. You're worth so much, Mitchy. Don't ever doubt that."

The verbal conversation died there, but Mitch continued to cling to Scott. The pair eventually relocated to the bed to find a little more comfort.

Mitch was laying on his side with his face buried in Scott's shoulder. The blond's shirt was fisted roughly in his small, trembling hands, and Scott wished there was a way he could make everything better. He hated the sound of Mitch sobbing, and he really hated the feeling of his best friend's tears falling onto the skin of his neck and trailing along his own collar bone before soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

Mitch was strong and it took a lot to break him apart like this. He was never one to sob and cry, but when he reached his breaking point, he became vulnerable just like everyone else. He hated it. He hated feeling vulnerable. He hated crying. He hated falling apart at the seams.

The silence had gone on for so long at this point that Scott wasn't even sure Mitch was awake anymore. It was very, very rare that Mitch acted this way. He was independent and knew how to take care of himself.

It took another hour before all of Mitch's tears were dried up. The trembling had stopped as well, and Scott risked a glance at the wet face in front of him. His fingertips silently wiped away all traces of tear stains from Mitch's face.

"Scott?" His blue eyes focused in on the brown ones when Mitch looked up at him.

"I'm here, Mitchy."

"He's not right. I'm not worthless." The dimples blossomed on Mitch's face, and Scott was quick to reciprocate with a smile of his own.

-----

The second time Mitch found himself clinging to Scott was the first time Pentatonix won a Grammy.

-----

     "Im so proud of you, Scott!" The champagne had been opened as soon as they made it back to their hotel for the evening, and they were half way through the bottle.

Mitch was feeling slightly warm from the alcohol, but the smile on his face never faltered.

"I'm proud of all of us! You're a part of this group too." The blush on his best friend's olive colored cheeks was unmistakable.